


Dusty

by kaige68



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Community: 1_million_words, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-24
Updated: 2015-04-24
Packaged: 2018-03-29 05:11:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3883579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaige68/pseuds/kaige68
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em> Eames won’t admit it out loud, but Arthur is better at it than Eames is at forging. </em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dusty

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sharpiesgal (TigerLily)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TigerLily/gifts).



> Written for Sharpie's birthday! It's a little late, but there is so much love!

Eames has heard people say that he has a mouth made for sucking cock. They are dead wrong. He does a good job, had enjoyed getting a bloke off that way in the past (never the men who have made that comment, though), but he knows he’s got nothing on Arthur. Arthur may not look it to the casual observer, but his skill at swallowing Eames down far surpasses anyone else. Eames won’t admit it out loud, but Arthur is better at it than Eames is at forging. Those people who say that about Eames have never had the sublime pleasure of shooting down Arthur’s throat.

Eames strokes at Arthur’s face, ears, neck, while pushing his hips forward slightly. He smiles at how relaxed around the edges Arthur’s closed eyes look. It’s the only time the man’s eyes don’t look pinched. It’s a heady feeling to think that sucking him off is Arthur’s _Zen_ moment. 

He’ll return the favor this evening. Return it and more in the privacy of a hotel room, and will very much try to give Arthur a run for his oral sex money. He might even suggest a toy, but right now… 

Right now, he can feel it in his spine; he can feel his body tightening; can feel Arthur getting ready to take it all down. Blunt nails scrape slightly on the back of his right thigh and Eames is done for. His world becomes stuttered movements, and electricity rolling through is body like waves, and it feels like Arthur’s tongue is everywhere all around him. He doesn’t black out, but he wouldn’t notice if aliens landed in front of him.

“Fuck, Arthur.” Eames says moment or hours later as Arthur is tucking and fastening to keep Eames bits private.

Arthur stands, smiles, reaches for Eames’ neck and sticks his tongue in Eames own mouth. It’s a delicious taste of himself and Arthur’s smugness mixed. Eames smiles as the kiss ends, an arrogance in his eyes when he thinks that it will be at least an hour before Arthur is focused enough to brush the dust from the floor off his knees.


End file.
